


I'll Be

by psalmoflife



Series: Road To Joy [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint is not the abuser, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse, References to Domestic Violence, Violence, Violence against women
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psalmoflife/pseuds/psalmoflife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint knows that he's not the only insomniac in the Tower, but he's still surprised when he runs into Darcy almost every night. Clint also knows not to ask Darcy about Boston, but the pieces still slide into place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luuv2shop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luuv2shop/gifts).



> You should go check out the rest of the fantastic accompanying [artwork](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1019050)! 
> 
> Warning: this story (and this series) deals with Darcy moving on from a past abusive relationship. There is also (consensual) sex, some violence, and emotional fallout. 
> 
> This story tells the events of the previous three works from Clint's point of view- so lots of it will look familiar. I tried to avoid frequently replicating scenes and dialogue exactly, and I expect that this will make very little sense if you've not read the earlier stories.

The first time Clint meets Darcy Lewis, he thinks she’s incredibly brave.

Well, he technically doesn't _meet_ her, he watches her run through a town under attack with a puppy in her arms, shepherding people out of the way, before returning to Jane’s side. But he walks away with the impression that she’s tough and fierce and generally has a good head on her shoulders.

(He’s also really curious where the puppy went – but only because the town doesn't need a feral dog, not because he thinks she might want it back.)

\---

The second time Clint meets Darcy Lewis, he still thinks she’s incredibly brave, but that other people don’t see it.

She’s unconscious in the first aid center of Stark Tower with an IV feed in her arm. Clint wasn't around for the incident, but he can’t blame anyone for being a little panicky around the Hulk, especially a civilian.

Stark, though, is kind of being an ass about it, teasing Bruce even though he clearly feels awful about it, and Clint is one more comment away from snapping when Natasha does it for him.

Nat’s been making an effort to act like the Hulk doesn’t bother her, like the chase in the bowels of the helicarrier hadn't nearly taken her out of the fight, so the fact that she’s willing to show some empathy to Darcy so publicly is… interesting.

He can tell that voices are about to be raised, which usually precedes barbed words that impede the Avengers’ ability to work together in the field, so he invents a problem with his phone and coaxes Tony back to his workshop. By the time he completely upgrades the phone (and gives Clint a lecture about buying products that aren't Stark Tech) Tony’s talked himself through his full commentary on Darcy’s panic attack.

When she wakes up, she seems embarrassed about the whole thing, and Clint is glad that Tony withholds any further remarks. He knows he’s missing the vast majority of the picture, but he figures that anyone Nat is willing to stick up for is deserving of some extra consideration from Clint.

\---

Clint has trained himself out of most of his habits from his black ops days. He doesn't hoard food or switch burner phones every month, or refuse to consume anything that wasn't prepared in front of him, but a few things have stuck with him. He still compulsively scans for the exits of every room he’s in, runs background checks on the maintenance people in his building, and he has go bags stashed away throughout the city.

He also has trouble sleeping.

The problem with the sleeping thing, he figures, is that it goes back to when he was just a kid. Night time usually meant getting put back in his room and listening to his dad beat up his mom. When they were really little, Barney would whisper to him through the vents in the floor, telling Clint stories and promising that it would be okay. As they got older, Barney got more quiet, sounded angrier, talked about putting a stop to things, even though they both knew that he stood no chance against one of their father’s drunken rages.

Shortly before their parents died, Clint had crawled to the vent and asked for a story. Barney had refused. Stories were for babies, and Clint wasn't a baby. Not anymore.

The orphanage hadn't helped, with all the boys in one big room. Someone was always awake, flipping around to get a more comfortable position, or talking, or crying. He’s pretty sure that he didn't get a full night of sleep the entire time they were there.

The Barton brothers had lived on the fringes at the circus. Trickshot knew they were useful enough to stay (especially once Clint started drawing in the crowds with his bow) but also knew that they had nowhere else to go, could be given the absolute worst accommodations and minimal food. Clint’s nights in the circus usually involved hunger pains keeping him up most of the night, or drunken laughter from the crew, or the muffled cries of fights out back.

Sometimes Clint heard things he wasn't supposed to, like Trickshot’s schemes, or couples sneaking off to have sex. He mostly ignored the scheming, until it got so bad that he just couldn't be part of it anymore. The sex… well. He was a teenage boy, at an age when he should have been looking at Playboy with his friends and maybe sneaking into an adult movie theater. He had enough respect for privacy (and a healthy fear of the consequences of being caught) to scuttle away as soon as he realized what was going on, but the soft cries and distinctive sounds usually stayed with him the rest of the night.

His best night of sleep at the circus was the night he lost his virginity, fumbling in the darkness with one of the younger trapeze artists. She was older than him, and more experienced, and determined to enjoy herself. She wasn't cruel about it, but she made him get her off while his jeans were still on, and again when he was recovering from his rapidly-achieved orgasm. He paid attention at first because he wanted her to sleep with him again, then paid extra attention when he realized how beautiful she looked when she came.

Nothing really came of their night together, but Clint walked away with eight hours of sleep and a healthy appreciation for sex with an enthusiastic partner.

Sleep after the circus sucked.

Clint operated for years as a black ops specialist for the military, often being loaned out to the various alphabet soup agencies, both domestic and international, depending on who was owed a favor. He slept with one eye open, and even then just barely escaped enemy combatants on multiple occasions. When SHIELD finally tracked him down and Coulson offered him a job, the deciding factor was the offer of his own room on base where he could sleep all night without anyone bothering him, and off-base accommodations once he was off probation. He discovered quickly that full nights of sleep rarely occurred, but at least he had a comfy bed to be in while he stared at the ceiling.

And now he’s become an honest-to-goodness superhero who has nightmares.

Natasha is the only person he’s told (though he thinks Coulson probably knows). Nat has her own problems sleeping, her own demons that appear in the night, and while they never actually talk about the specifics there’s a sense of shared understanding with her that he doesn't have with anyone else.

He feels at his most vulnerable at night, so it’s something of an unpleasant surprise when he goes looking for Nat after a particularly bad dream and finds her watching TV with Darcy.

They've officially met by this point, and Clint likes Darcy well enough, but liking and trusting are two totally different things. Nat looks relaxed though, is discussing the sitcom on the screen with apparent interest, so Clint decides to sit with them for a while.

Natasha is tight-lipped about the whole thing the next day, just says that it’s not the first time that she’s run into Darcy in the middle of the night, and she suspects it won’t be the last. She gives him a pointed ‘be nice’ look, and Clint nods. He’s not the type to get after other people for needing some company in the witching hours.

\---

Darcy likes to watch football.

He doesn't think that she actually follows the sport, she never participates in the inevitable day-time discussions and doesn't seem to actively track the schedule or the rankings, but after she discovers that the Tower gets the NFL network that becomes her channel of choice. Clint doesn't much care what’s on the TV, as long as it pulls him out of his own thoughts, so they spend many hours together watching game recap footage and the pundits’ predictions.

At some point he mentions that he prefers college football, and that actually gets something of a reaction. He learns that she has two younger brothers and the older one has a decent chance at playing college ball, even if he’s not good enough for a big scholarship. Being from the Midwest she’s most familiar with the Big 10 (even if it’s not really the Big 10 anymore), and only laughs at him a little when he reveals that he’s a Hawkeyes fan.

Natasha is not the least bit entertained by their football talk, preferring to watch movies instead, and one night, during a protracted fight over the remote, she says that Darcy can pick the channel if Clint plays his guitar. He’s a little mad at her for revealing that he plays – music is one of the few things that is his, and his alone – but Darcy doesn't seem like the type to laugh at him.

(Darcy doesn't seem like the type to laugh at anybody, really.)

So he goes off to get his acoustic, and is kind of flattered when Darcy drifts off in the middle of “Hey Jude.” He knows she doesn't often get back to sleep, at least not in the common areas, so he figures something about the song made her feels secure.

And if he starts bringing his guitar to their shared couch without prompting – well, sometimes it’s nice to have someone listen.

\---

He doesn't realize how much he’s learned about Darcy until Tony is planning a dinner for something-or-other and Clint vetoes a seafood restaurant because Darcy is allergic to shrimp.

“That’s not in her file,” Tony says, waving his tablet in the air. “It is _not_ in her file, I specifically asked JARVIS to compile all of the food allergies into one document and this doesn't say anything about Lewis being allergic to shrimp.”

“I don’t care what the file says, Stark, she’s allergic. She told me herself.” There’s more to the story, he found out when they were trading hospital visits and she told him exactly how she discovered the allergy, but that doesn't seem like the type of thing he should spread around.

Tony glares at him for a few moments, then apparently decides that Clint isn't going to give. “Ugh, fine. No shrimp. Does her majesty have any other allergies?”

“No.”

The answer, technically, is yes, but shrimp is the only food allergy, and how does he know all of this stuff about Darcy?

The question niggles at the back of his mind for the rest of the day, through a briefing with Coulson and his afternoon workout on the range, and it isn’t until Darcy brings him a Gatorade (blue, his favorite) and starts ranting about Jane’s inability to alphabetize that it occurs to him that their pre-dinner venting sessions have become a daily thing.

The fact that he has standing plans with someone that isn't Phil or Natasha is weird, but what’s even weirder is that he’s been telling her about himself. Thinking back over the last few weeks, he realizes that he’s shared – well, not a _lot_ with her, exactly, but certainly more than most people know about him.

Clint holds people at arm’s length, always has, and the fact that Darcy has snuck in close without him realizing it is strange, but he doesn't think he minds.

\---

It doesn't take long before there is actual sneaking close, to accompany the emotional stuff.

Their favorite couch is one of those over-stuffed, micro-fiber monstrosities that you just can’t help but curl up on. They fall into a routine of watching college football games together, twisting into pretzels in the middle of the couch as they share popcorn and argue about the exact level of stupidity of the referees.

At a certain level of friendship Clint becomes quite tactile, likes to reassure himself that his chosen family is still safe, and apparently Darcy is reaching that level because he finds himself reaching out to ruffle her hair, or help her out when she gets stuck in the cushions.

Darcy’s a little hard to read, most of the time, but it’s like a second Darcy appears when they’re sitting on that couch together. She becomes more expressive, uses her hands to emphasize her points and bounces with excitement during big plays. She also becomes more soft, her standoffish edges melting away to leave a woman who seems younger than her years, lines of tension relaxing into carefree fluidity and someone who snuggles into his side.

\---

Towards the end of football season, Darcy stops appearing in the middle of the night.

Well, she doesn't precisely stop, but her appearances taper off, and more often than not she sits with them in silence for a cup of hot chocolate and then goes back to bed.

It should feel normal, bouts of insomnia have only involved Clint and Natasha for years now, but the couch just seems too empty without Darcy beside him.

\---

The upside to Darcy sleeping more is that she’s no longer sneaking away to take naps. Instead, she sneaks away to see Clint.

Being an Avenger has given him more downtime than he’s had since the orphanage. He’s useless for undercover work now, and Fury doesn't like to loan him out for special operations missions because he thinks that the risk is too high (or, perhaps, the reward too little). So Clint spends a lot of time hanging around the Tower, running increasingly difficult training exercises in the multi-level gym and contemplating taking some college classes.

He mentions the classes to Phil, to see if SHIELD has some sort of program or if he should just sign up for online courses under a false name, and gets an extremely odd look.

“We offer some courses through the military college, although they’re primarily on tactics and weaponry, things you already know. We also have partnerships with several local universities for agents wishing to advance their education.” Phil gives him a long look. Clint just waits – he’s been through meetings like this enough times that he knows it’s best to just let Phil talk it out. “I will confess to being curious, Barton. You haven’t shown any interest in higher education in all your years here, beyond the required language training. Has something brought this on?”

Clint shrugs. “Just getting a little bored with sitting on my ass all the time, sir. I figured I might as well do something useful.”

Phil doesn’t look like he buys it, but he reaches into his desk and pulls out a folder. “Here’s some information about the universities we work with. There are obviously other schools, but these institutions are more willing to work with exclusively online coursework and give crisis extensions.”

“You keep this in your desk, sir? Trying to get everyone in SHIELD to get a PhD?”

Phil gives him A Look. “Miss Lewis stopped by earlier to ask about finishing up her BA. I assume you don’t mind sharing some brochures with her?”

Ah. If Clint’s being honest with himself, Darcy’s desire to finish her education had been the catalyst for his own interest. She always sounds so excited when she talks about her classes. She never talks about Harvard itself, or mentions anything about Boston, but her genuine desire for knowledge makes Clint think that school might not be so bad if he got to choose the subjects. Plus, online classes mean that the teachers can’t call on him when he doesn't have his hand raised.

Phil’s giving him a look like he knows what he’s thinking, which really wouldn't surprise Clint at all considering how closely he watches the Avengers and their civilian counter-parts, but he’s not the type to say anything.

Phil lets Clint be. It’s why they’re friends.

\---

Clint knows not to ask Darcy about Boston.

He kind of knows because of cues that she gives when she’s awake, the tension in her shoulders and the tremor in her voice, but he mostly knows because of things she says when she’s asleep.

Early on in their friendship he hears her crying out, burns himself on the tray he was taking out of the oven, and skids out into the TV area to find Darcy in the throes of a nightmare, Natasha watching with a troubled look.

“Aren’t you going to wake her up?” he asks sharply.

Nat bites her lip. “That usually makes it worse,” she says. “These happen pretty regularly, but she works through them quickly.

Clint shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. He might be a badass but there’s something about his friends in distress that gets to him, and he knows he won’t be able to concentrate on anything else until she snaps out of it.

Natasha sends him back to the kitchen with claims that the Tower will burn down if he doesn't turn the oven off, but the distance isn't enough to prevent him from hearing Darcy’s cries. The wall muffles things a little, but he can still make out a few words – _no, don’t, please, you promised_ – and he finds himself wringing a dishtowel in his hands, thinking of a different night, thirty years ago in Waverly.

The cries taper off, and Darcy never wakes up, but Clint and Natasha spend the rest of the night whispering next to her anyway.

“Do you know what happened?” he finally asks, watching the sky begin to lighten.

“Her ex.” Natasha’s voice is short, clipped. It’s the voice she gets when something is pissing her off but she can’t do anything about it.

\---

Part of Clint just wants to let it be, but years of spying for SHIELD are impossible to just turn off, and Darcy has become such a staple in his life that he gradually pieces together most of the story.

He gets confirmation in FAO Schwartz, of all places, from a kid with kind eyes and freckles across his nose, visiting the city to help his baby sister move to college. Clint is pretty sure that Darcy has no idea that he’s talking to Sean, she’s too wrapped up in discussing dorm room storage techniques with Maggie, so he quietly asks Sean the questions he’s too afraid to ask Darcy.

Sean gives him a long, searching look, then apparently decides that Clint must be okay. He tells Clint about a bubbly, vivacious girl, a brilliant student who brought cookies to study sessions and wore sweatshirts even during heatwaves. He tells Clint about a panicked phone call, about a trip to the post office and then to the airport, and rumors around campus of the PhD student that has a wicked temper and tore apart a study lounge after his girlfriend left him.

Darcy comes back over and Clint excuses himself, goofing off with Maggie and surreptitiously watching Darcy and Sean talk. They both claim to be nearly strangers but there’s a clear connection between them, a sense of understanding and camaraderie, and Clint finds himself wondering if Darcy had any other friends in Boston.

He’s still thinking about Darcy’s past when they leave the toy store, ambling back in the general direction of the tower, so he’s taken thoroughly by surprise when she leans up to kiss him. They've been building to this moment almost since they met, but Clint also thought they might never get there, and he’s not sure which of them is more surprised.

He decides to worry about that later, and leans down for another kiss.


	2. Chapter Two

Clint is surprised to realize several months later that he and Darcy are spending almost all of their time together without grating on each other.

It’s a new concept for Clint, who has had great relationships in the past, but only with women who could deal with his need to disappear for the occasional hour (or day) to clear his head. He’s with Darcy almost all of the time, including six nights out of seven when he’s not on a mission, and it’s gotten to the point where it feels more natural to be in her company than it does to be out of it.

They spend most of a Saturday apart, Darcy off shopping with the girls, and then apparently doing something with Natasha, based on the “stay away” text Nat sent him. They have plans to watch a movie, though, so Clint heads for the couch at the appointed time, then goes to look for Darcy ten minutes later when she still hasn't appeared. He’s more amused than worried, assumes that she probably got caught up on facebook again and forgot to check the time, so he’s caught off guard by the serious look on her face and the “can we talk?” that comes out of her mouth.

In his experience those particular words usually preface a break-up, but Darcy is not a usual girl, so he works to keep his face calm while she leads him to the couch.

Whatever he was expecting her to say, “I don’t like sex” and “I think I’m falling in love with you” were not very high up on the list.

Clint has absolutely zero idea what to say, so he asks to kiss her instead. They've kissed before, and will evidently kiss again, if her enthusiasm for this particular kiss is anything to go by, and something about that promise for the future helps settle him, brings the right words to the front of his mind.

He assures her that they don’t have to do anything that she doesn't want, which somehow leads to a sort-of conversation about her experiences in Boston, about the cretin who apparently hurt her so badly that she may never be fully comfortable with Clint. It’s hard, trying to be reassuring without sounding like he’s trying to pressure her into doing something, and part of him is convinced that they’re going to have a conversation about sex that ends with her running away from him forever, but if she wants to talk about it he’s going to make it work.

Clint decided during Darcy’s first nightmare that he wasn't going to pry, or tell her about how things will be different with him, but when she says, “It’s a conditioning thing, I guess. It’s only ever been painful, so that’s what I expect,” a not insignificant part of him wants to fly up to Boston and punch a certain person in the face.

Instead he takes a deep breath, and says, “Anything we do together, that’s totally up to you. But I promise not to hurt you. And if you say stop, we stop. Deal?”

Darcy’s smile is a little watery, but still beautiful. “Deal.”

\---

Clint’s searching the refrigerator for the leftover lo mein two weeks later when Natasha appears at the table and tell him to pull out the chicken, as well.

Leftover Chinese dates are a longstanding tradition between the two of them – Clint always orders a ridiculous amount of food when he gets take-out, and Natasha thinks that Chinese tastes better the next day – but he’s pretty sure that this is a calculated move on her part, the kind of thing that she has done before to tell him that a junior agent that he trained is dead, or that Phil is actually alive.

They have a brief duel with their chopsticks over the last eggroll, crack into Tony’s not-so-secret stash of expensive microbrews, and then Natasha says “Darcy is going to therapy.”

Clint chokes on his noodles, coughing violently and chugging half a beer before he’s able to respond. “What?”

“Darcy is going to therapy.”

“…okay.” Clint pops another piece of chicken into his mouth. “Is there a reason that you’re telling me this?”

Natasha gives him a long, considering look. They’re best friends, and have been for years, but that look is kind of unsettling. It’s the look that she gives people when she thinks they’re lying, and when it’s important to her to get the truth. He’s seen her kill men shortly after this look. “Darcy and I had an interesting conversation a little while ago,” she says finally. “About her past sexual experiences.”

Ah. That explains the talk they had about his willingness to wait, when they were supposed to be watching _Remember The Titans_.

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to make fun of you for having girl talk?” he deflects.

“It’s the part where I tell you that she spent two years in an abusive relationship and had lots of painful, unwanted sex,” Natasha says. She still has that look on her face. “And where I tell you that even with lots of time and talk and perspective on her past and current relationships, she may never want to have sex again.”

“I know that,” Clint points out. He’s a little annoyed that she thinks that he’s that unaware (or possibly just horny enough to ignore it). “I’ve talked with her too, and we’ll keep talking. But,” he points his chopsticks at her for emphasis, “I think that you’re underestimating her ability to make her own choices. She’s the most spectacularly brilliant person that I’ve ever met. She can decide what she wants us to do.”

Natasha throws a stray bit of cabbage at him, then snorts when it lands in his hair and he leaves it.

He decides that means that he’s off the hook- for now.

\---

Tony, because he’s an asshole, likes to make fun of how much time Clint and Darcy spend watching TV. (And movies. And DVDs of old concerts.) Clint occasionally points out that it’s mostly that Darcy consumes a lot of media, and Clint likes cuddling with Darcy, but his usual policy of keeping his private life private goes double when he’s talking to the biggest gossip in North America, so mostly he just ignores Tony and puts on _The Notebook_ anyway.

They’re watching the famous run-and-kiss sequence when Darcy suddenly hops off the couch to get something out of her bag. It’s a little notebook, which she scribbles in for several moments before looking back up and noticing that Clint is watching her.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

Darcy’s face gets a little pink. “It’s my therapy homework. It’s a list of things I want you to do to me someday.”

It’s the first time that she’s acknowledged her appointments to him, and he wonders if he should act surprised, then decides that Natasha had probably made a point of telling him because Darcy wouldn't want it to be a big deal when she told him herself, so he decides not to mention it. He also decides not to sneak a peek at the notebook, even though he is furiously curious about the contents of that list, the kinds of fantasies and expectations that she has, what he can do to make her happy.

Instead he just says “Let me know if you want to try any of your ideas, okay?” and turns back to the movie.

\---

Things should be the same as always, but they’re… not.

Clint doesn't expect anything to change in their physical relationship, and he doesn’t think that Darcy wants to go any farther, either, but knowing that she’s thinking about it, even in the context of therapy, has him hyper-aware of the way her body moves, the way her breath quickens when they kiss and the way her cheeks flush when he catches her gaze from across the room.

He thinks they’re spending more time kissing, but it’s a little hard to be sure, since he’s never really kept records. But there is a definite increase in the time they spend touching, shoved into each other’s space, and he’s sure that their kisses are growing deeper, tongues and gasps replacing the more chaste pecks of just a few months ago.

He’s still resisting the temptation of sneaking into her journal (or hacking the file that must exist in the therapist’s office), but it’s getting harder as Darcy starts sharing bits of it with him. It’s never anything spectacularly racy, or really anything that he wouldn't have guessed on his own, but there’s something titillating about knowing what kinds of things she’s thinking about, what she thinks she might one day want to do with Clint, and while he would never push he really wants to know everything.

(It’s also incredibly infuriating to hear about her past sexual experiences, about the pain and the humiliation and the total lack of autonomy. Part of him always wants to zone out when the subject comes up, but if Darcy wants to talk about it, he’s not going to disrespect her by refusing to listen. Plus, it’s giving him some important What Not To Do information.)

It’s the conversation about sexual experiences that she hasn't had that finally convinces him that they are moving towards sex. He’s ninety-nine percent sure that she tells him about the things that she’s missing to make sure that he helps check them off her list. He thinks about telling her that he’s more than willing to help her achieve these things – he’s hardly the type to have sex and not get his partner off, jeez – but he’s not sure how to tell her that he would _love_ to make her come without sounding creepy.

He pushes the thought to the back of his mind and begins plotting, thinking back on his own sexual experiences and every piece of locker room talk he’s ever overheard to begin scheming for the future.

\---

Clint is bound and determined to let Darcy make the first (and second, and third) move, so she’s the one that pushes them forward, taking his hand and sliding it under her sweater.

He knows that at least one other man has had his hands on her breasts before, but he also knows that those touches did not have Darcy’s pleasure in mind, so he is pleased, but unsurprised, at how responsive she is as he starts toying with the sensitive skin, tracing his fingertips over her curves and lightly applying pressure to her nipples.

When Darcy asks him to stop he jumps back in a panic, sure that he’s crossed a boundary (or maybe pushed her into a panic attack), but instead she pulls off her shirt.

Clint is a huge fan of the female form in all forms, and will never complain about seeing a woman’s body, but Darcy could be a lingerie model. The sight of her in her jeans and a deep purple bra has him incredibly hard, and his mouth actually goes dry when she pulls the bra off.

She looks a little apprehensive, like she wants to be doing this but isn't totally certain that he isn't going to turn into a Neanderthal and start tearing off the rest of her clothes, and he kind of can’t bear to see that look on her face so he pulls her into a kiss. Their kisses are always amazing, and this one quickly turns into them making out again on her couch.

(At some point one of them must have pulled his shirt off, because he’s not wearing it anymore, but he’s not entirely sure where it went - nor is he entirely sure that he cares.)

Eventually Clint gives into his desire to have his hands on her (perfect) breasts, and shifts around a bit, propping himself up on one elbow so he can devote his other hand and mouth to exploring Darcy’s body. It doesn't take long before her breath is coming short, her hips pushing up against him and putting just enough pressure on his cock that he is, if possible, getting even harder.

The thing is, this is completely about her, her need to have a positive experience and be in control, so he just keeps doing what he’s doing until she tentatively asks if they can go further.

If it were anybody else – Nat, Bobbi, Jess – he’d tease probably tease about the request, or draw things out until they asked in a complete sentence, but this is different, is so totally about Darcy that he wishes he could read her mind in order to anticipate what she wants to do tonight, where she’s going to draw the line.

So instead he just smiles, starts pressing kisses along her stomach, and refuses to allow himself to stop and ask about the scar on her hipbone, as much as he wants to know exactly how the jagged edges came to mar her skin. Instead of asking he just presses a kiss to it, then moves over enough to get her jeans open.

He struggles with the button, which makes him feel like an inexperienced kid again, but Darcy just laughs, brushing his fingers out of the way to flick it open herself. It’s only when he has her fully naked that he realizes that he doesn't really want this to happen for the first time out on the couch, next to an empty pizza box and the Coke stain on the floor, so after a quick discussion he scoops her up into his arms and carries her to the bedroom.

He’d been hoping she’d be more comfortable there, in the big bed with the ridiculous number of pillows where they've spent endless hours cuddling, but something about the change in scenery has her tensing up, refusing to meet his eyes. He offers to stop, but she says no, it’s not that she wants to stop, just that this is completely unknown (and new and scary), and that just reinforces his desire to make this amazing for her.

He goes back to kissing her stomach, then her thighs, listening as her breathing becomes more relaxed and then more labored again, before he moves in to press his mouth between her legs.

He’s not entirely sure how she’s going to react (hell, _she_ doesn't know how she’s going to react), so he gives her a few exploratory licks, paying careful attention to the shift in her breathing and the slight noise that escapes her mouth. He shifts forward a bit, presses his tongue over her clit, and smiles inwardly at the way her hips jump up underneath him. He doesn't want to really pin her down, figures that might bring up bad memories, but he puts one hand over her hip to help keep her mostly still while he continues to draw patterns on her clit, spelling out his name and her name and ‘I love you.’

Eventually her hips stop jumping quite so much, and he takes that as a sign to move to the next step, sliding his index finger inside of her. Darcy is wet and slick, so the movement is slow and easy, just a gentle pumping motion that she seems to be enjoying. She really seems to enjoy it when he adds his middle finger, taking the time to add a bit of a twist as he continues to push them in and pull them out.

Her breathing is getting fast again and he’s pretty sure she’s close, so he crooks his fingers a bit and searches out the spongy spot just inside of her, pressing his fingers up against it and bearing down on her clit. She tightens around him, holding his fingers in place, and he feels a little churlish but holy shit he wants that to happen while a different part of himself is inside her.

She takes a while to float back down, can’t quite seem to regulate her breathing or get her limbs back under control, but Clint is more than happy to watch her, his chin propped up on one hand.

When he tells her that he will do this for her any time she wants, he means it.

She still seems to be having a hard time finding words (he kinda knows how she feels), so she reaches a hand down for him, instead. He crawls to the top of the bed and kisses her, wondering if she can taste herself on his tongue or if that’s just a myth.

He’s kissing her with singular focus, and is thus surprised when her thigh pushes between his legs, putting delicious pressure on his erection.

Clint honestly, truly, does not expect anything of Darcy tonight. He wants this to be about her. But he thinks that this is something that she truly wants, and he’s not really the type to turn down an orgasm, so he nods and kicks his jeans down his legs.

When Darcy’s hand closes around him he uses every bit of his self control (and possibly a bit of divine intervention) to stop himself from bucking towards her, from doing anything that might scare her or remind her of… other things. He can’t stop himself from swearing, but Darcy seems to find that funny so he decides not to worry about it.

It’s been a long time since he was a passive participant in sex – the last time had, in fact, involved him being handcuffed to the headboard – so it’s kind of nice to lay still and allow Darcy to explore his body, to watch her face as she learns exactly what he likes. Somewhere along the way she figures out that he likes having his hair pulled, and she fists one hand in the back of his head, using just enough pressure to get him to lean his head back so she can put her mouth to work along his throat.

Clint can’t help but kiss her, so he pulls his head back down (and swears appreciatively at the burn in his scalp) to push their mouths together, sliding his tongue past her lips and spilling into her hand, gasping out her name and wondering how he got so lucky.

\---

Clint still lets Darcy initiate things, wary of pushing her too much, but she’s initiating often enough that he’s quite sure that she’s okay with the way things are progressing between them, with the heated glances in public and the occasional trip to a handy closet on her lunch hour.

One morning she starts to ask him something, then stops, then starts again. Clint doesn't really have anywhere to be, so when she says “do you want to make brownies?” he says yes, even though he’s pretty sure that’s not the question she was going to ask when the “do you” first came out of her mouth.

Clint’s absolutely hopeless in the kitchen, but it’s brownies from a box mix and therefore impossible to screw up, so he cracks the eggs and hands her the spoon, helps scrape the last of the batter out of the bowl. He’s not really sure how it happens, but somehow he flicks the spatula hard enough to get batter into her hair. He apologizes quickly, laughing a little at the look of shock on her face, and then laughing harder when she comes after him with the spoon.

He’s lying on the floor, laughing big belly laughs and licking chocolate off the back of his hand, when Darcy says “I want to have sex with you.”

Oh.

\---

They've been dancing around the act for months, have had all the conversations about protection and expectations, but Clint’s not really sure how this is going to go. The uncertainty bothers him, but not nearly as much as the slight anxiety on Darcy’s face.

She says that she’s sure that she wants to do this, and he believes her, but clearly she’s expecting it to hurt.

He starts off by going down on her, figures that the orgasm will help with both lubrication and relaxation, and doesn't let her return the favor. (He refuses to call himself old, but his refractory period hasn't been that good since his circus days.) The orgasm does seem to help, but she’s still nervous and tense, and he has to leave her for a moment to put on a condom.

He’s given a lot of thought to the right position for this, but hasn't known for sure that he was making the right call until he suggests that she ride him.

Their early conversations had revealed that she has previously only had sex in missionary, and he’s pretty sure that sex with him on top is just going to remind her of past events. But Darcy being on top is something new and different, and also allows her to set the pace (and immediately end things, if necessary).

He holds himself still with one hand and spreads her open with the other, bites his lip to keep from swearing as she sinks down onto him. It’s been a while for him too, and the tight, wet heat surrounding him is intense – even more so when he looks up at Darcy and sees the quiet wonder on her face, the realization that sex really doesn't have to hurt, that this might even be fun.

They stay still for a long moment before she moves, just rolling her hips a bit, and she leans forward to brace her hands on his chest as she starts putting a little more power behind her movements. Once she settles into a rhythm he braces his feet a bit and starts to move as well, shallow thrusts upward in counterpoint to her movements.

He knows that the angle is good for her but not perfect, but she figures that out on her own when she leans down to kiss him and then stays there, rocking a little more frantically as the change pushes her closer to climax.

She screams his name when she comes, and damn if it’s not the sexiest thing he’s ever heard.

He thinks it might have snuck up on her a little, from the way she’s gone stiff other than the continued hitches in her hips, and he can’t help but plant his feet solidly on the bed to thrust up into her a few more times, the contractions of her cunt and noises spilling from her mouth pushing him over the edge.

He expects her to roll off of him right away, but instead she collapses forward, burying her face in his neck. He gets a little skin-hungry after orgasm as well, so he’s more than willing to indulge her, but eventually he has to make her get up so that he can deal with the condom.

He makes her drink some water as well, then snuggles up next to her and holds her while they fall asleep.

He’s not cocky enough to call it a perfect first time together, but he thinks it was pretty close.


	3. Chapter Three

Clint isn't entirely sure how it happened, but he has somehow developed the reputation of being the introvert of the Avengers.

He’s not, really. He spends time with Natasha every day, trains with Steve and Thor, will make small talk with all of them at briefings, but something about their particular group of personalities is incredibly grating, the kind of combination that really shouldn't work and only does because there’s no catalyst to set the whole thing on fire.

Putting the Avengers in any kind of public situation is often asking for trouble, which Clint points out to Coulson when his former handler informs him that they are all going to the Stark Expo, but the decision has been made and his attendance is an expectation of his position. (Coulson's words, not Clint’s.)

It’s not just that he doesn't want to go, but that there are other things he would rather be doing, mostly involving Darcy. And not even particular activities, just spending time with her, watching the sky and talking about life and her apparent plans for a tattoo. He feels too old to have someone else scheduling his life.

\---

Natasha has somehow gotten it into her head that the Expo gala should serve as some sort of pseudo-prom for Clint and Darcy, so she bullies him into asking Darcy about her dress before dragging him to buy a tuxedo. Clint very seriously considers telling Nat to go fuck herself, but that’s a dangerous phrase to say to the Black Widow, and anyway Darcy seems to find the whole thing endearing.

When Natasha shows up at an ungodly hour of the morning the day of the gala to take Darcy to get ready, Clint decides that he is very grateful that he doesn't have to fuss with his hair, then rolls over and goes back to sleep.

\---

The one bit of Natasha’s plan that Clint had liked was his responsibility for providing Darcy with a necklace. Nat had described the neckline of Darcy’s dress and provided him with several suggestions of appropriate pieces, but Clint had vetoed them all, sure that the huge jewels were just too much for Darcy.

Watching her open up the box, he’s positive that he made the right decision. She’s clearly surprised by the gesture and in love with the necklace, and nothing about Clint’s life has been even kind of normal but standing behind her to close the clasp just feels right.

His desire to skip the gala altogether is resurfacing when he hears footsteps, and he tells Nat to go away when she knocks. She doesn't, of course, just ties his tie and bemoans the loss of the staircase-entrance-moment they were apparently supposed to have downstairs. (The fact that there is actually someone announcing the guests as they come down the stairs is just ridiculously ostentatious, even for Tony, but no one had asked Clint’s opinion.)

\---

Clint’s been to a few of these kind of things before, mostly political events where SHIELD needs to make a good impression, so he’d known to expect the dry conversation and self-important CEOs. (He also knows to take advantage of the food, because the catering at these events is always fantastic.) He hadn't realized, however, that the inventors attending the Expo would be at the gala, nor that some of them are apparently interested in archery, and unexpectedly finds himself enjoying a discussion about improvements to his quiver and the possibility of adding new trick arrowheads to his repertoire.

Darcy, quite understandably, loses interest quickly and wanders over to talk to Coulson. He thinks that Phil will blow her off, and is possibly the most surprised person in the room when they head to the dance floor together instead.

The inventors only have half of his attention after Phil and Darcy start to dance. Clint’s not the jealous type (and he also knows with absolute certainty that there is nothing romantic about this dance), but he wishes that he was out there with her.

The inventors figure out pretty quickly that they've lost his notice, and they all exchange cards before going to speak to Bruce. Clint absent-mindedly shoves the wad of cardstock into his pocket, then goes to tap on Phil’s shoulder and asks if he can cut in.

\---

Later, when he thinks about the gala, he’s never quite sure how they got from point A to point B.

He remembers dancing with Darcy, slow rotations around the dance floor in each other’s arms. He remembers the music picking up, and their inability to dance properly sending them off the dance floor to make more room for the couples that actually know what they’re doing. He remembers running into another set of inventors before they make it back to their table, and Darcy indicating that she would go get them another round of drinks.

He remembers hearing a startled cry and a crash, and spinning around just in time to see a young man in an ill-fitting tux send his fist into Darcy’s face.

\---

Clint should theoretically be trained out of the fight-or-flight response, SHIELD needing agents who can control their adrenaline, but he vaults over the tables between himself and the bar, reaching the asshole before anyone else and tackling him to the ground.

The guy splutters in shock – did he actually think that he could hit an Avenger’s girlfriend and get away with it? – and makes a half-hearted attempt at escaping before Clint breaks his nose.

He keeps swinging, splits open the guy’s lip and bashes his head into the ground, but then Phil is there, yanking him backwards and hissing an order to stand down in his ear. His head clears just enough that he remembers what made him so furious, and he quickly spins to see Darcy still on the floor, Natasha taking her pulse as a team of paramedics jogs in the door with a backboard.

He’s pushing through the crowd to get to her, doesn't want her to be alone while this is happening even if she’s unconscious, but then a police officer is standing in his way. He tries to step around the guy, but then the officer says “I need you to come with me,” and suddenly Clint is under arrest.

\---

It’s not the first time that Clint has been arrested, nor is it likely to be the last, but this particular wait in the interview room seems like the longest hours of his life.

They don’t know how Darcy is doing (or maybe they know and just won’t tell him), and the fact that he has to keep explaining that the other guy started it, he doesn't know him, he was just trying to protect his girlfriend, is really starting to grate on him.

Eventually one of the cops comes in and refers to the guy as Miss Lewis’s ex, and suddenly Clint is wishing that he hadn't resorted to physical violence in front of Darcy and also kinda wishing that he had killed the guy.

Fortunately for Clint his story is backed up by about twenty eye-witnesses and the security cameras, so they decide to let him off with a warning and a ridiculous fine. (The fine is technically unpaid parking tickets that he thinks should be covered by SHIELD as they were all related to Avenging, but he’s pretty sure that Coulson stepped in to smooth away any battery charges so he figures he owes them one.)

He wants to go see Darcy, but suddenly stops and wonders if that’s a good idea. He knows that she still has occasional flashbacks and panic attacks, and seeing her ex again isn't going to help that – and neither is seeing her current (he hopes) boyfriend, who just beat the shit out of somebody.

He settles for texting Natasha and Phil, who are both hanging around the hospital and taking turns sending him updates, then goes to the range, checking his phone every five minutes for news.

Eventually Jane, of all people, shows up to chase him out of the range. “I know you’re pissed,” she says. “But Darcy needs you.”

Clint isn't sure of that, wants to point out that Jane doesn't have all the information, but he also can’t tell her that without explaining parts of Darcy’s past that she’s worked so hard to keep private, so he goes.

\---

He has every intention of staying awake until Darcy wakes up, but as soon as he sits in the chair by her bedside everything catches up to him, the five course dinner and the drinks and the dancing, the adrenaline rush and the fight, the hours spent in the police station not knowing if Darcy was okay.

When he wakes up he has to fight back a groan. The plastic chair did something awful to his back, and the scabs on his knuckles itch terribly. He’s debating going to the nurses’ station to get some ibuprofen when a voice says “Long night?” When he forces his eyes open, Darcy is watching him.

He doesn't know what to say.

He feels like the worst person in the world for it, but nothing in his life experiences or the SHIELD manual has taught him how to handle his girlfriend’s abusive ex making an appearance. Or the fallout.

He finally settles on, “Not too bad. You?”

Darcy snorts – or maybe chokes back a sob, it’s a little hard to tell – and says, “I think I cried on Agent Coulson, but I don’t really remember.”

(Phil had been in Darcy’s room when Clint showed up, his jacket rumpled and brow furrowed. He’d told Clint about his conversation with Darcy and mentioned that she’d been very upset, which Clint sort of thought went without saying. Clint’s pretty sure Phil mentioned it to excuse the fact that he had stayed to watch over Darcy while she slept.)

He wants to know how Darcy feels, so finally he just asks, but all she says is “I don’t know.” Which is a fair answer, he doesn't know how he feels about this either, but it’s been a solid twelve hours of confusion and he’s _still_ confused, and if something doesn't fall into place soon he thinks he might scream.

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

He’s a little surprised at himself for asking, because he doesn't know what he’s going to do if she says no – or if she says yes, for that matter – but ultimately it’s a question that has to be asked to make sure that Darcy feels safe. Clint’s willing to sacrifice a lot to make sure of that.

Darcy doesn't answer that question either, just dodges it and asks him to get into bed with her.

He’s so close to saying no, to walking out and retrieving Phil, or Susan, or Jane or Natasha, but he thinks that if he walks out of the room now he might not be able to make himself come back. So he slides onto the edge of her bed, lets her lean into his side and fall asleep on his shoulder, but when the nurses come to kick him out so that they can change her bandages, he leaves the hospital altogether.

\---

He thinks about going to the range, or to the training facilities at SHIELD, but instead he goes to the rooms he’s been sharing with Darcy and moves all of his things back to his floor of the Tower. It’s mostly empty other than some furniture and his backup weapons, and it smells a little funny. He tries to remember the last time he bothered to go back to his own room, and can’t actually remember the date.

Retreat finished, he decides that he needs that spar after all, and goes to find Natasha. He knows that she’s going to make him talk about it, but she lets him work out some of his nervous energy on the mats first, and it occurs to him that he doesn't know what he’ll do without her if Darcy wants him to leave the Tower.

He mentions this when they’re taking a break, pouring bottles of water down their throats, and Natasha very carefully swallows and puts her bottle back down. “What makes you think you’re moving out?”

“I don’t think Darcy’s going to want me around for a while,” he says. “This has her pretty shook up. I moved back into my old room but she’ll still see me sometimes, and I – ” He almost says that he wouldn't be able to bear Darcy running away from him, but that’s a little too personal of a fear, even for his best friend.

“You are an _idiot_ ,” Nat says, backhanding him with a little more force than he thinks is warranted, considering they’re not on the mats. “Running away isn't going to help anything. Has she said that she wants you to leave her alone?”

“She doesn't have to.” Clint sighs, fiddling with his water bottle. “Nat, I’m not going to force her to tell me that I remind her of what happened.”

It looks like there are a million words on the tip of her tongue, and he’s pretty sure he can guess most of them – she loves you, you can work through this together, you’re nothing like Him – but she settles for kicking his feet out from under him instead.

Natasha kicks his ass even more thoroughly when they officially end their break, but she doesn't try to convince him to move back to Darcy’s room.

\---

Clint spends the next month successfully avoiding Darcy.

He has to see her sometimes, they’re still living in the same building and working for the same organization, and Phil has mandated that he go to some of her therapy sessions, but he avoids eye contact or talking to her directly, and they are never, ever alone.

It’s the least amount of time that he’s spent with her in nearly two years, and he’s not really doing that well with sleeping alone again, but whenever he thinks of asking her for coffee or a movie he thinks of the look on her face at the gala and the careful way she might tell him no and refrains.

One night, when he hasn't slept in nearly forty hours and isn't paying attention to his surroundings, he stumbles across her on one of the couches in the common area.

He immediately apologizes and backs off, but he doesn't get more than a few feet before Darcy asks him to wait.

He doesn't know what he’s expecting her to say, but “I want you to move back in” was not very high on the list.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he deflects.

“Why?”

“I think you need your space.” _Need your space, need your safety, need to know that you’re not alone with someone who could kill you with his bare hands._

Darcy says that she sleeps better when he’s there, that she trusts him, that he’s making things worse by staying away. And part of him wants to believe her, but a bigger part of him is thinking of too many nights back in Waverly and the circus and the military and SHIELD, thinking of women who loved their husbands and husbands who beat their wives, and is convinced that she’s lying to herself.

He fumbles through his explanation – tells her he loves her, then tells her that he can’t handle being the person to make this harder for her – and he knows immediately that he’s said something to piss her off.

“Please stop making this about you.” It’s the closest to snapping he’s ever heard her. “I’m sure that was an awful night for you, too, and I think you should keep coming with me to see Susan, but this is not helping. If you’re not comfortable being together right now because of how _you_ feel about this, that’s fine, but you’re making all these assumptions about how _I_ feel, and what _I_ want, and you’re wrong. So how about you listen to what I’m telling you and come back to bed with me.”

Clint’s pretty sure his mouth is hanging open. He can’t help it. Responses rush into his brain, everything from ‘I love you’ to ‘I’m sorry’ to ‘I can’t do this,’ but there are tears tracking down Darcy’s face and he can tell that she hasn't been sleeping either.

So he tells her “okay,” and follows her back to her room.

\---

When they wake up the next morning (afternoon, really) Darcy apologizes for yelling at him. Clint apologizes for projecting.

And then he tells her about his parents.

He tells her about his father beating his mother, about the long stretches of unemployment and the drinking, and how he would always promise ‘never again’ and his mother would believe him. He tells her about hiding in his room and trying not to hear, about his boyhood promise never to hit anybody that he’s broken so many times that he no longer attempts to keep count or do penance.

Darcy assures him that she’s never thought he was going to hurt her, and this time he’s closer to believing her.

She says that she knows that it wasn't her fault, but that it wasn't his fault, either. She says that she’s ready to move on.

“Yeah,” Clint says. “Okay.”

There’s no way they’re going to go out to the common areas when they've both been crying, so Clint pulls out bacon and eggs to start breakfast. He nearly burns everything when he catches a glimpse of Darcy’s shirt riding up enough to show a hint of ink on her skin.

When she tugs her clothes away to show him the words - _still flying_ \- wrapped around the faded white scar on her hip, he runs one finger over the words, and says, “It’s perfect.”

\---

Their lives are not perfect.

They’re pretty good, all things considered, but Darcy still has nightmares and Clint is still paranoid about hurting her. They go to more therapy appointments and silently agree to hold off on sex for a while.

They spend long, sleepless nights on the couch, watching football and movies and football movies, and slowly but surely all of Clint’s possessions move back to Darcy’s rooms.

They haven’t really talked about their future, except in all the ways that they have, offhand comments about taking some classes together at NYU and going to Sean and Rebecca’s wedding, spending the afternoon in Phil’s office giving each other medical power of attorney, making plans to visit Darcy’s family for Christmas.

Clint isn't really looking at rings, until the day he finds himself in front of a jewelry store window, eyes drawn to a silver band with a heart-shaped diamond and imagining the ring on Darcy’s left hand.

He doesn't buy the ring – not yet, not with no solid plans to ask her about forever – but he makes a note of the name of the store all the same.

Their lives are not perfect, but they’re together, and they’re in love, and maybe that’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that- Road to Joy is complete! 
> 
> Many thanks to many people: allochthon for the beta and insightful comments, the Marvel Bang mods for all their hard work, caitriona_3 for the FANTASTIC artwork, twistedingenue for being the first person to inspire the Clint's POV idea, and especially luuv2shop, who purchased this fic in the AO3 auction ages ago and was willing to wait so long for the final product.


End file.
